The Wasteland Series: Books 1-3 of the post-apocalyptic survival series

by Jon Cronshaw

  Abel nods. “I’m sure I can think of a story.”

  “Becca used to put me in story.”

  “You want to be in a story?”

  Sis nods.

  Abel shrugs and places the stick down at his feet, rubbing his beard. “Once upon a time there was a girl called Sis who lived with her mummy and—” He stops himself, frowning, and clears his throat. “I'll start again. Once upon a time there was a girl called Sis and one day she made friends with a dog.”

  “Dogs bad,” Sis says.

  “No, no. This was a nice dog. She was friendly. She was called Pip.”

  Sis smiles.

  “Sis and Pip were best friends, and they travelled the roads together. One day, there was this wizard who cast magic spells and made everyone happy.”

  “What’s he called?”

  “The wizard?”

  Sis nods.

  “He was the Great Alfonso, and he had a mule that used to pull a cart around when he travelled between places. One day, Sis and Pip joined the wizard's magic show, and the wizard taught Sis how to do magic. She learnt how to make fire and how to make food. She could build houses from the ground that grew up into the sky like vines. But one day, a bad wizard came and tried to take Pip away from Sis. He was a terrible wizard with sharp teeth and glowing eyes. He was also a giant.”

  Sis dips her head behind a forearm. “I don't like this story.”

  “But Sis used her magic and made a big wall and stopped the bad wizard from taking Pip away. The bad wizard got bored and went away. And they lived happily ever after. The end.”

  “Is wizard still real?”

  “Which one?”

  Sis looks around. “The bad one.”

  “It’s just a story, Sis. Don’t sweat it.”

  Sis smiles and rolls over onto her side, stretching her feet towards the flames as the last flickers of lavender sunlight vanish over the Grid.

  ABEL LOOKS OUTSIDE, seeing movement through the car’s window. He opens the door, sliding outside, and closes it behind him. “Hey,” he says.

  Sal nods at him, her face creased with concern. “We need to figure out what to do next,” she says, almost out of breath. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” Abel follows Sal across the Grid, walking between cars as twinkling stars emerge above. A blinding fire burns iridescent in a steel drum as a dozen or so men and women huddle around its warmth. “Have you eaten? I’m famished.”

  “I shared a tin of beans with one of the parishioners earlier. They're running out of supplies.”

  “Then we need to figure out what to do.”

  The men and women look up at Abel. “If anyone has any ideas of how to get Trinity back, speak up.”

  No one responds.

  He looks around and frowns. “Where’s David? And Sis?”

  “I'll go get them,” Sal says. “I think I saw them over there.”

  A man with hunched shoulders sidles up to Abel and turns to him, a dark curl twisting his lips. “You’re going to get more of us killed if we go back there,” he says with a gravelly voice.

  “Probably,” Abel agrees. “The way I see it, you can die out here, starving to death on the wastes, or you can try to get your home back. How about, instead of trying to think about why this is a bad idea, you start thinking about how we’re going to make this work? Try thinking about ways you can get Trinity back.”

  The curl drops from the man's lips as he nods his head. “That fence protected us for years. And now it's going to protect them.”

  “They got in. We can do the same.” Abel looks up when he sees Sal approaching.

  “I've got them,” Sal calls, marching over with David and Sis at her heels.

  Abel claps his hands together and rubs his beard, his gaze sweeping across the men and women’s faces, their eyes glowing and flickering against the flames. “We need ideas. These raiders are armed, more so than before.”

  “How more so?” the man asks.

  Abel shares an awkward glance with Sal. “They gained access to the weapons cache behind Trinity.”

  The man snorts. “There’s no weapons cache—”

  Sal places a hand on the man's shoulder. “There was,” she says in a low voice. “It was always there. But we never used it.” She turns to the other people.

  “Wait,” the man snaps. “You’re saying we had weapons, and we didn’t even use them?”

  “That’s right,” Sal says, raising her chin.

  “We could still be there.”

  “The decision was made to keep weapons out of our community.”

  “And if they were there, we’d have been able to defend ourselves.” The man tosses his hands into the air.

  “We felt it was best to keep them as a precaution—”

  “Fat lot of good that did.”

  Sal lets out a sigh and folds her arms. “Listen,” she says. “We were worried about accidents. We were worried that having guns inside our walls could only end in trouble. Someone could have got hurt, or killed. What if someone had decided they wanted to take control of our community?”

  “Like they did, you mean?” The man waves his hands and storms off.

  “Wait,” Sal calls. “Please.”

  Abel shakes his head, watching as the man disappears into the night, muttering. “Leave it, Sal. Let him go.”

  Sal shuffles in her robe and lifts her chin. “We need to look forward. What is done is done. If mistakes were made, mistakes were made. We need to focus on King Omar and his people. These are the people who took our homes, who killed our friends. They have sentenced us to death and starvation if we do not act. It's going to be challenging, but, God willing, we will win this war. God is on our side.”

  “Your friend doesn't look so convinced,” a woman says.

  Abel shrugs. “It's never about God for me. You believe what you need to.”

  Everyone turns as a low rumble comes from the other end of the Grid. People emerge from the cars while others gravitate towards the noise. “What's going on?” Sal asks.

  A man running past turns to her. “Alf’s back from the caravans.”

  Abel raises an eyebrow and follows the stream of people headlong towards a group of men unloading a trailer.

  Hundreds of food cans stand sealed on wooden pallets. A dark-skinned man wearing a blue polythene poncho slides his hunting knife along the clear plastic stretched over the tins and hands them out to the people. Abel joins the queue, his eyes wandering past the returning men.

  Reaching the line’s front, Abel starts when he meets the dark-skinned man’s eyes.

  The man tilts his head. “Abel?” A broad smile spreads across his face, the explosion of grey-streaked hair stretching high above his head.

  Abel's jaw drops. “I...I thought you were dead.”

  “You going to say that every time you see me?”

  Abel smiles and embraces the wizard. Pulling away, he eyes him up and down. “And you got yourself clean.”

  “Man, we’re all clean. After the plez dried-up and the Trinity guys came, they really helped us out here.”

  “And you're alive.” Abel shakes his head, smiling. “I can’t believe it. I thought you were dead.”

  The wizard glances past Abel and nods. “Look, man. Let's keep this moving. Speak to you later.” He pats Abel’s shoulder.

  “You're Alf?”

  The wizard shrugs. “I guess.”

  Abel rubs the back of his neck and looks at the queue stretching behind him. “You'll notice we got a few more people here.”

  “Yeah? Trinity, right? Someone already told me.” He shifts aside an empty pallet and glides his knife along the plastic covering another layer of tins. “We’ll talk about it later, man. Good to see you’re still doing okay.”

  Abel swallows. “Jacob’s dead.”

  The wizard’s hands fall to his side, his knife dropping to the ground and clattering along the broken asphalt. “Dead? You sure?”

  “I'm sure.”


  “You were sure I was dead.” He leans down and picks up his knife, checking the blade with a forefinger.

  “I saw his body with my own eyes,” Abel says, lowering his gaze. “Trust me, he’s gone.”

  “Damn.” The wizard shakes his head. “What happened?”

  “You hear of King Omar’s gang?”

  The wizard nods. “Rumblings, you know?”

  “They’ve taken Trinity. They crucified Jacob.”

  There’s a long silence as the wizard holds his eyes closed. He lets out a sharp breath. “He was a good friend,” he says, shaking his head. “Lost too many friends, man. That’s too bad.”

  “Yep.”

  The wizard waves past Abel at the line of people now growing restless. “Listen, man, I need to keep this moving. We should do something. Mark his life, you know?”

  Abel pats the wizard’s shoulder, smiling sadly. “That sounds good.” He goes to leave, then stops. “It’s good to see you again.”

  23. Love

  A knock at the window rouses Abel from his sleep. He squints in the darkness, meeting Sal's eyes through the glass. He leans over to the driver’s door, lifting the lock to let her in. “You okay?” he asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  “We okay to talk?”

  Abel pats the seat. “Sure.”

  Sal climbs inside, leaning back against the headrest. “I can't sleep.”

  “It's just unfamiliar surroundings. You'll be right.”

  “Every time I close my eyes, I see Jacob. I see him hanging there, like our Saviour.”

  “Alf was saying we should do something to mark his death. Won't quite be a funeral, but it will be a way to find closure.”

  Sal lets out a bitter laugh. “You think this is about closure?” she asks, turning to him. “I killed him. When I see him in my head, nailed to that cross, it's through the sight on Sis’s rifle in that moment before I pulled the trigger.”

  Abel shakes his head. “You did what you had to do. You said it yourself—you ended his suffering.”

  “I ended my suffering. I couldn’t see him like that. But it didn't end it, did it? It's just the start.”

  “You did the right thing. Don't beat yourself up. He was beyond saving.”

  Sal brushes a tear from her eye and looks through the windscreen. “I preach the Gospels. I preach the Ten Commandments, Exodus 20:13. There's no exceptions, no caveats. I killed, plain and simple. Whichever way you look at it, I took someone's life—”

  “Out of love,” Abel interrupts.

  “I killed. I intended to kill. Jacob's dead.”

  “I've been thinking of a way we can get Trinity back. We’ll have to get organised. I will need help from the people at the Grid.”

  “Please don't change the subject. This is serious.”

  Abel raises a hand. “Honestly, Sal. It isn't as serious as all these people out there who could die if we don't do something.”

  Sal bangs her head against the chair’s back. She growls, slamming her fist on the steering wheel. The car horn rasps out, causing her to flinch. “I can't do this.” She turns to Abel. “How can I call myself a leader? How can I call myself a preacher? I can't lead. I'm a hypocrite. I’m a killer.”

  “You can lead,” Abel sighs. “You have to lead. You can't just abandon all these people. You’re on the verge of losing everything. Don't let it happen.”

  “Can't you see? I've got nothing left. I'm not a fighter. I’m not a survivor. How can I keep leading these people when I can't even think straight?”

  Abel lets out a long sigh, and drums his fingers on the dashboard. He shakes his head, staring into the night.

  “What?”

  “Doesn't matter.”

  Sal tugs at his arm. “Just say what you need to say.”

  “It breaks my heart to see you like this. I love you, Sal, and I know you’re stronger than this. I know you’re better than this.” He grits his teeth. “Life out here is hard. Trinity was an amazing place, it could be an amazing place again, but it's down to you. People look up to you. I look up to you. It’s going to be hard but you need to fight.”

  “You love me?”

  Abel swallows. “Yep.”

  24. Raiders

  Abel sits cross-legged on the ground, poking a campfire with a stick. Looking up, he watches Sis and David make their way towards the fire, a bundle of twigs under each arm. “We got some beans for breakfast,” he says. “Hope you two are hungry.”

  David drops the sticks and sits next to Abel.

  “Alf’s looking for you,” Sis says. “I told him you here.”

  Abel gets up as the wizard approaches. “Everything okay?”

  “Man, we need to talk.” The wizard casts a grim expression.

  “What is it?”

  “You got a plan for Trinity?”

  “I was hoping to talk to you about that today. There’s so much junk around here. I was thinking we could build something to help us get over the fence.”

  “People are getting restless, man. With Jacob gone, I don't know.” He glances over his shoulder.

  “If you get your people to help us, Sal’s people will be out of your way. It will make things quicker.”

  The wizard looks past Abel, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell?”

  Abel pivots at the sound of shouts and calls. “Raiders.” He looks around. “Kid, take Sis. Hide under a car or something. Keep out of the way.”

  “Okay.” David takes Sis's hand, leading the way through the cars. Abel looks around and grabs his shotgun from the ground.

  Racing between cars, he heads towards the Grid’s east end. An arrow flies past as his ears fill with the sounds of battle cries and screams. He hops onto the roof of a car and looks over the raiders’ identical faces—wild red hair and blue ponchos twisting with their attacks. “Damn it,” he sighs.

  He scans through the crowd, spotting Big Ned wielding a spear. He jumps down from the car and runs towards him, firing the shotgun into the air. “Ned! Ned!”

  Big Ned looks around and then drops his spear, his head tilting. “Stop! We got wrong.”

  Abel marches over to him, the shotgun slung over his shoulder. “Damn it, Ned. What's going on?”

  Big Ned slaps his hands on Abel’s shoulders, leaning on him, breathless. “We came to get our women.”

  “Well, you've come too far.”

  “They burned Town. They string our boys on tree. They took our women.”

  Abel nods and gestures to the crowd. “These people have also lost their homes. They’ve seen people die because of the same raiders.”

  “They got to get got.”

  Abel’s shoulders relax. “You're right. You can help us.”

  “We go now. We take them.”

  “No, no. If you're going with sticks, you’re not even going to get into the settlement. We’re coming up with a plan to get in. You can help us with the attack. What do you say?”

  “You help us get our women back?”

  “Yep.”

  Big Ned lurches forward, embracing Abel, and then turns to his people. “Abel going to help us. He know where we need to go. He know what we need to do. That king got to get got.”

  25. Remember

  Residents from Trinity and the Grid sit in a large horseshoe-shape, some of them kneeling on the ground, others seated on cars and trucks. The air hangs still around them as the sun casts a grey glare through the clouds above. The wizard gets up first and scratches the back of his head. He looks around and sighs. “You know why we’re here,” he says. “Jacob was important to a lot of us, man. Can't believe he's gone. Few years back, before I came here, I used to have this show. I had a mule and a cart and I did all these tricks with stuff from before. Jacob saw me for who I was.” He gives a half-smile. “So, we didn't exactly get on.”

  A few of the gathered people laugh. Others dip their heads, sobbing.

  “He had high standards. He always pushed people to do better. I'm speaking fo
r us at the Grid here, but, man, he helped us all get clean. The Family used to say you can never be free of plez.” He looks around, smiling. “Here we are. And it's thanks to him.” He lowers his head and closes his eyes. “We’re going to miss you, man.”

  The wizard steps aside, and takes a seat next to Abel.

  “That was a nice speech,” Abel says, patting the wizard on the back.

  “Thanks, man. Meant every word. You should go say something.”

  Abel nods and gets up, walking over to the clear patch of dirt. He looks around and swallows. “What can I say that hasn't already been said? Jacob's been there for a lot of us. I can't count the amount of times I’ve been banged-up and he fixed me up. He was there when I got clean too.” He shakes his head. “Seems like a lifetime ago now.” He gives a half-shrug and rubs the back of his neck. “I'll be honest, we didn’t always get on. He could be smug. He could be arrogant. There were times when I wanted to punch him in the face. But, you know, we all saw he was a good person and helped a lot of people.” Abel licks his lips. “A few years back, I used to run with this dog called Pip. She was a really good dog, not like the wild ones you run into on the roads. She was a proper friend.”

  “She was good, man,” the wizard calls.

  Abel nods. “I still miss her. But I found new friends,” he says, smiling at David and Sis, his eyes resting on Sal. “Pip had been attacked by this dog. It came out of nowhere. I managed to kill it, but one of her legs got infected.” Abel shakes his head. “Jacob was there for her. She was only a dog, but he sewed her up and cleaned her wounds. He tried to save her. He could have turned me away and said that she was just a dog, that she wasn't worth saving, but he didn’t.” He looks down at the ground and sweeps his gaze across the faces. “I was one of the last people to see him alive. He died trying to help everyone here. We tried to get some weapons so we could get Trinity back. That's when they took him. Even at the end he was trying to help. I think that's the type of person we need to remember.”

  Quiet applause ripple around him. He shuffles back to his seat as Sal stands.

  “So many of you have come up to me with kind words and prayers. Thank you. I...” She shakes her head, staring at her hands. “I wish we could have saved him. I wish—” Her voice cuts off with sobbing. She drops her head into her hands as tears run through her fingers. She wipes her eyes and nods to herself. “Please, join me in prayer.” The others bow their heads, many of them clasping their hands together. A few people look around confused, then copy the person next to them. “Dear Lord, we are thankful for the life of Jacob, and are grateful for his time on this earth. We ask you to accept your servant with your blessings into Heaven, so he can live in eternity at your side. Amen.”